|
After work on Friday we had a quick dinner then fetched Sharon & Darby to go see The Philadelphia Story at The Redford. Apparently I've seen the movie before but the only part I recognized was the drunken swim.
Saturday morning I went to Nia, and had a fairly miserable time. This was not the fault of the instructor; it was entirely because I was so stiff and sore I could barely move. I don't know why I hurt so much, I'd had my morning dose of motrin and it's as though I'd done anything overly strenuous since the previous class.
After class I came home, took a welcome shower, got dressed, and remembered to post odogoddess' birthday card. I puttered around on the computer until Jebra got up and was ready to go. When he was, we went to the McDonald's by Detroit Metro and waited for my mom to say they had arrived and were ready to be picked up. That went swimmingly, and they were hungry, so we took them to our favorite Swedish restaurant, the one with an incredible gift shop (Ikea). Neither mom nor my brother Rob had been in an Ikea before, so that part was doubly fun. And now Rob understands why Diana has been trying to get him to go (she'd been to the one in North Carolina). We wandered around the store for a while, trying to find the exit, then drove to our work, which is where we'd left mom's car.
Mom, Rob, and Diana left for home, but we stayed so that I could repair the pair of jeans I brought in two weeks ago with the intention of mending. As it turns out, I suck at patching jeans. I managed to sew a corner of the front pocket to the patch in the seat of the jeans. I cut that out, sewed the pocket shut, discovered I'd added a new crease to the inside of one of the legs, and managed to sew the front of the jeans to the patch. I used a seam ripper to open the leg back up but added a new hole to the front while I was at it. I mended over the new hole, but what I'd hoped would be invisible repairs on my good jeans turned into visible repairs on jeans more suited toward yard work.
After my sewing misadventure, I was extremely grumpy and all I wanted to do was go home. So we did, and we checked on our Hamish beast, to see if he (and his brother) were okay. Since Hamish was forced to wear the cone, he's managed to knock it off, chew holes in it (still haven't figured out just how he managed to do that), tear his fingernails bloody scratching at it, and just this morning, managed to get the gauze tying the cone closed wrapped tightly around one fang. I have already called the vet to see if it is at all possible the cone might come off early. I was told the preferred wait is ten to twelve days before the stitches come out and we're not quite to seven. I did, however, receive permission to take the cone off tonight with the provision that I keep a very close eye on him and that if he shows any interest in the incision I put it back on. I'm hoping that he'll be so happy to be out of the cone that he doesn't notice the nice thick sutures coming through his skin -- but I also think that is an extremely unlikely scenario.
Sunday I slept in, had breakfast, then went outside and tackled the late fall yard work -- raking leaves, chopping down the New England Asters, trimming the yews, and mulching the front garden bed. About mid-way through I noticed I was starting to shake, and came in to have some lunch and drink some water. I was pretty sure the shaking was entirely due to a drop in blood sugar, and I felt a lot better after a bowl of couscous, so I went back out and finished up. I'm happy to be done with that job as today it's raining and the city will be doing leaf collection on our street on Wednesday.
I was inside the house and in the shower before it got dark, but I must not have beat sundown by much as it was fairly dark when I got out and the sun was down before I started the laundry. Other than working on the laundry, I caught up a bit on email, LJ, and DW and spent the remainder of the night catching up on the things I'd recorded the previous two days.
This entry was originally posted at http://mrs-sweetpeach.dreamwidth.org/262560.html.
Saturday morning I went to Nia, and had a fairly miserable time. This was not the fault of the instructor; it was entirely because I was so stiff and sore I could barely move. I don't know why I hurt so much, I'd had my morning dose of motrin and it's as though I'd done anything overly strenuous since the previous class.
After class I came home, took a welcome shower, got dressed, and remembered to post odogoddess' birthday card. I puttered around on the computer until Jebra got up and was ready to go. When he was, we went to the McDonald's by Detroit Metro and waited for my mom to say they had arrived and were ready to be picked up. That went swimmingly, and they were hungry, so we took them to our favorite Swedish restaurant, the one with an incredible gift shop (Ikea). Neither mom nor my brother Rob had been in an Ikea before, so that part was doubly fun. And now Rob understands why Diana has been trying to get him to go (she'd been to the one in North Carolina). We wandered around the store for a while, trying to find the exit, then drove to our work, which is where we'd left mom's car.
Mom, Rob, and Diana left for home, but we stayed so that I could repair the pair of jeans I brought in two weeks ago with the intention of mending. As it turns out, I suck at patching jeans. I managed to sew a corner of the front pocket to the patch in the seat of the jeans. I cut that out, sewed the pocket shut, discovered I'd added a new crease to the inside of one of the legs, and managed to sew the front of the jeans to the patch. I used a seam ripper to open the leg back up but added a new hole to the front while I was at it. I mended over the new hole, but what I'd hoped would be invisible repairs on my good jeans turned into visible repairs on jeans more suited toward yard work.
After my sewing misadventure, I was extremely grumpy and all I wanted to do was go home. So we did, and we checked on our Hamish beast, to see if he (and his brother) were okay. Since Hamish was forced to wear the cone, he's managed to knock it off, chew holes in it (still haven't figured out just how he managed to do that), tear his fingernails bloody scratching at it, and just this morning, managed to get the gauze tying the cone closed wrapped tightly around one fang. I have already called the vet to see if it is at all possible the cone might come off early. I was told the preferred wait is ten to twelve days before the stitches come out and we're not quite to seven. I did, however, receive permission to take the cone off tonight with the provision that I keep a very close eye on him and that if he shows any interest in the incision I put it back on. I'm hoping that he'll be so happy to be out of the cone that he doesn't notice the nice thick sutures coming through his skin -- but I also think that is an extremely unlikely scenario.
Sunday I slept in, had breakfast, then went outside and tackled the late fall yard work -- raking leaves, chopping down the New England Asters, trimming the yews, and mulching the front garden bed. About mid-way through I noticed I was starting to shake, and came in to have some lunch and drink some water. I was pretty sure the shaking was entirely due to a drop in blood sugar, and I felt a lot better after a bowl of couscous, so I went back out and finished up. I'm happy to be done with that job as today it's raining and the city will be doing leaf collection on our street on Wednesday.
I was inside the house and in the shower before it got dark, but I must not have beat sundown by much as it was fairly dark when I got out and the sun was down before I started the laundry. Other than working on the laundry, I caught up a bit on email, LJ, and DW and spent the remainder of the night catching up on the things I'd recorded the previous two days.
This entry was originally posted at http://mrs-sweetpeach.dreamwidth.org/262560.html.
